Mistletoe

Christmas. Love it or hate it (we just happen to love it!), it’s steeped in tradition. From Christmas dinner to Christmas trees, tinsel and baubles to ribbons and bows, these historical customs have been embraced by generations, and whilst some may be tweaked from family to family, the origins of most can be traced back hundreds of years, sometimes thousands. The history surrounding many festive practices is often familiar, but there are many that we just accept without knowledge or question, and one of those is mistletoe; what is it with mistletoe? A hemi-parasitic plant, prevalent throughout Central and Southern England, it grows all year round, and although it’s pom-pom appearance is always visible, when autumn arrives and deciduous trees lose their foliage, the evergreen leaves of the mistletoe are striking against the bare branches of its host. Its poisonous berries, however, appear around October and can remain until late spring, so they’ll be present during our celebrations, but aside from being more noticeable during the festive season and full of appropriately-coloured berries – who doesn’t love a berry at Christmas? –  why is mistletoe synonymous with this time of year? And why the need to indulge in osculation if one gets too close to it? We took a look, and this is what we found… 

It would seem the Celtic Druids of Ireland and Scotland were responsible for the initial fascination with the plant, way back in 1AD. Observing its resilience in the depths of winter, mistletoe became a sacred symbol of fertility, and if early accounts are to be believed, the Druids performed rituals with the plant, treating it with the highest regard, particularly on the extremely rare occasions it was found growing on an oak tree. The boughs were harvested by a priest with a gold sickle, and the cuttings were caught in a cloak to prevent them coming into contact with the ground. Two white bulls would be sacrificed as part of the ritual – quite the offering for some green leaves and white berries – and because the plant was believed to be medicinal, it would be offered in drink form to infertile animals and humans with hopes of reversing their condition. The Druids also believed, ironically, that mistletoe was a potent antidote to poisons, but there are no reports of it neutralising itself.

And then came Norse mythology. Baldur – god of light and peace, brother of Thor and son of Odin – suddenly became paranoid, believing his life was at risk from every animal and plant in the world, and inconsolable, racked with fear, he locked himself away. Concerned for his sanity, his mother and wife roamed the earth, pleading with every species they encountered to spare the life of Baldur, and all agreed. With relief, the cowering god celebrated his reprieve but was soon struck down by an arrow made from mistletoe, the one plant missed by the travelling family. The arrow was fired by Baldur’s twin brother, Hodur, tricked into killing him by a jealous Loki, and it’s said that Baldur’s mother dreamt of her son’s demise before approaching the world’s fauna and flora; following his death, she made a deal with the parasite that if it was no longer used as a weapon, it would kiss all those that walked below it. Her tears are thought to have turned into white berries that attached to the plant and symbolise a mother’s love, the initial association with the plant. The moral of the story? Mistletoe must never be forgotten. 

In Greek mythology, Aeneas used mistletoe for protection and a safe return when travelling to the underworld, and this symbol of peace lead to the practice of enemies calling a truce if they encountered the plant during their battles; the Romans also adopted mistletoe as a symbol of peace and fertility, as did the Druids, the ancient Greeks and early Christians.

Whilst the kissing ritual can be attributed to several aspects of the plant’s history – whether fictitious or factual – the Romans are often credited with the legacy. Their Saturnalia festival – a precursor to Christmas – saw the custom of kissing one’s crush under mistletoe, and by the 19th century, it had become a seasonal tradition, with many believing bickering couples would resolve their differences should they come together below a hanging sprig, and any singles that took advantage of it would marry. There were rules, though: a man could only kiss a woman on the cheek – if she refused, it was deemed unlucky – and for every kiss, a berry would be removed; when there were no more berries, there’d be no more kisses. Whilst the plant’s popularity increased during the 19th century due to its appearance in many literary classics, the custom associated with it is not one that would work well in today’s enlightened world, though the plant is still popular for decorative purposes.

The plant’s evolution, however, is rather more impressive than its legacy… Of the 1500 species of mistletoe, only one is native to the UK: Viscum album, and it – like all the others – is descended from sandalwood, another parasite that would attach its roots to the roots of other trees and syphon off all it needed. A single stemmed plant, it channelled its energy into growing upwards rather than outwards, casting shadows on other plants in its bid to gain as much light as possible and thrive. When forests evolved, the sandalwood’s battle became harder, but mistletoes found the solution: rather than attach themselves to roots, they moved further up the tree, to nestle in its branches, eliminating the fight for light whilst still leeching goodness from their hosts, and with their elevated position and evergreen leaves, gaining additional goodness from the sun – a win/win for the mistletoe. There was no jostling for position, no threat from other species, and already touching the sky, the plants remained relatively contained. Their seeds, however, were still at the mercy of nature, reliant on a passing bird that might be peckish or a blustery day to carry them away; it wasn’t enough. Progress was made when the seeds evolved into berries that became even more attractive to birds, but there were no guarantees the seeds would be expelled in the most advantageous places. Further modifications were needed, and eventually the perfect specimen was unveiled: sticky seeds. No matter where they were excreted, the seeds would stick to birds’ feathers, transporting them further afield. It would be impossible to remove the seeds whilst in-flight, so the birds would have to land somewhere safe – like the branch of a tree, maybe – and remove the seeds with their feet, transferring the seeds to their prime location when their preening was complete: genius! 

There’s an air of mystery surrounding these spherical plants as they grow, almost suspended in the sky, evergreen leaves bringing some relief from the grey of winter, and it’s easy to see why our ancestors were so taken with them. The name mistletoe can be traced back to the Anglo Saxons, but it’s interpretation, however, is far less appealing than its appearance: mistel means dung and tan (the original incarnation) means stick or branch, so our modern version of mistletoe essentially means ‘branch dung’… nice… but it is accurate!

Although happy to take up residence in many trees, attaching itself with an appendage called a haustorium, mistletoe has its favourite habitats: hawthorn, lime, poplar, and predominantly, apple. Older trees can survive the loss of water and nutrients, leeched by the parasite, but younger ones may not be so lucky; if you’re looking to grow your own, be cautious with your choice of host.

Given its history and evolution, you’re unlikely to find mistletoe in forests or woods, but wander through the countryside, and you’ll find it deep in the boughs of bordering trees. Tiny flowers are a source of nectar for bees and butterflies, with the berries a particular favourite of mistle thrushes and blackcaps, it seems wildlife is immune to the plant’s toxicity, but despite its use for medicinal purposes in different times, consuming the berries can cause blurred vision, diarrhoea, drowsiness and vomiting in humans; in some people, seizures; care should also be taken with pets. Research on its remedial properties continues, however, with cancer treatment at the forefront of possibilities.

Whether the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe is derived from its association with fertility, a mother’s love for her lost son or the plant appearing to kiss its host, no doubt the tradition will continue, but fortunately it has been streamlined to merely hanging the plant in a convenient location over the festive period, and bulls can now rest easy.